


All in a hot and copper sky

by orphan_account



Series: Matthew and Mary have sex with people (and each other) [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M, Season 1 porn, cliched excuses to sleep together, self-indulgent porn really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:08:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2688884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romance novels did not adequately prepare Matthew for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All in a hot and copper sky

**Author's Note:**

> hello yes this is my first porn and it's straight porn what the hell i'm not even straight
> 
> Yeeeees. Please give me porn feedback because I am v. new at this and would like to improve! Also this is set sometime season 1 before the kiss. This is not beta'd or edited or anything but I think it should be fine?

It starts because of an offhand comment Matthew makes. He didn’t think it meant anything, but it infuriates Mary.

“You expect me to just fall into your arms and marry you on the spot, when all we do is argue, and yes, you’re attractive, but that’s not all I want from a relationship!”

She’s moved up into his space now, her face almost touching his. He knows what’s going to happen; it’s in all the romance novels he’s read. He tries not to think about the fact that he’s a little disappointed, that Mary would be so cliché.

“You are the most ignorant, pig-headed – “ She punches him in the mouth.

He reels back, shocked. There wasn’t as much force behind it as there could have been, but there was more force behind it than there should have been, because she’s a woman – women are marching in America, he reminds himself, he mustn’t hold on to such archaic principles.

“ – always treating me like I need protection just because I’m a woman – “

“I thought you were going to kiss me,” he blurts, and then immediately regrets it when she turns that glare on him.

“You thought what?”

He’s already in the hole; he might as well dig it deeper. “That’s how it always happens, in romance novels.”

She still looks angry, but there’s an amused tilt to her mouth. “You read romance novels? Not what I would have expected from you.”

“Well, I – my mother reads them. She likes to discuss books with me, so I read them as well.”

Mary smirks. “Of course.” She steps closer, and he tenses himself for another attack. “So, you want me to kiss you in the heat of passion?”

“Well – “

“Because I would much rather our first kiss be slow,” she trails her index finger down his cheek, “and sweet,” she tilts his chin up, “and gentle,” and her mouth is covering his and for a moment he can’t breathe. She pulls away and he opens his mouth to ask for an explanation, _anything_ , but then her lips are back again, mere centimeters from his, and she murmurs, “our _second_ kiss can be passionate,” and Matthew is gone.

He dazedly thinks that she _must_ have done this before, and this is wrong, because he hasn’t, and he’s supposed to be the leader here, but he can’t seem to get a grip on himself and he’s drowning. Someone makes a sound, a sort of breathy moan, and he’s horrified to realize it’s _him_. His hardness is straining against his trousers and he shifts back because she mustn’t know; it isn’t proper.

“Don’t hide from me, Matthew,” she chides, pulling him flush against her, and he makes a helpless noise when his erection presses against her stomach.

“Mary, this isn’t right, I’m taking advantage of you,” he tries, though his body is screaming at him to stop talking and just go with it because this is what he dreams of every night and he may never get this chance again.

“Does it look like I don’t want this?”

“No,” he admits. “But I’ve lead you into it. You don’t really know what you’re doing.” Rejecting her is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, but he has to. He can’t do this to her, no matter how much he wants to.

“I know what I want, Matthew,” she says sharply. “And what I want is _this,”_ she presses the heel of her hand against his erection, and Matthew hisses through his teeth and it takes everything he has not to pin her against the wall and just _take her_ , “inside me.”

His hips buck into her hand of their own accord, and he groans. “Mary, you can’t – you can’t do this to me if you only mean to tease.”

“I have no intention to tease,” she says, fingers tracing lightly along the outline of his cock. Matthew thinks he might come in his pants.

“You’re very hard to resist,” he admits, as she backs him towards the door. She grins and licks his nose, and it’s not sexy at _all_ but somehow that’s the last straw. He growls and flips them around, crowding her against the wall and fitting his mouth to hers.

“Someone could walk in,” she gasps, and somewhere in the back of Matthew’s brain that registers as a bad thing. Somehow one of them gets the door open and they tumble into the bedroom, almost falling before Matthew rights them with an arm around Mary’s waist.

“My hero,” she drawls.

“And what is the hero’s reward?” he hears himself saying as he guides her down onto the bed, and God, that’s a cheesy line, but she’s laughing now and he wants to make her laugh like that more.

“I don’t know, Sir Lancelot. You’ve read all the romance novels; you tell me.”

“They’re my mother’s!” he protests, but Mary pulls him down on top of her and he hears her breath catch as his full weight settles on her. He buries his face in the crook of her neck and breathes in her perfume, and it’s very possible he might die of lust.

“Please don’t mention your mother in bed,” she says, and he laughs into her collarbone before licking it experimentally. She shivers, and he does it again before scraping his teeth over it, her breath hissing out on a ‘yes.’

He’s flying blind here; he has no idea what to do, but all he knows is he has to make sure this is perfect for her so that she’ll want to do it again.

“Tell me what to do, Mary. What do you do when you touch yourself?” Mary stills, and he realizes what he’s just said. She’s a lady; of course he shouldn’t assume.  “I apologize; I meant no disrespect,” he says quickly, and she relaxes. “I should not make such assumptions. I only want – tell me how to make this good for you.”

Mary looks away. “It’s not supposed – “

Matthew’s heart breaks a little, because she went to bed with him even believing she wouldn’t enjoy it. The least he can do is prove her wrong. “It is, Mary, and if you believe otherwise, then you have had poor lovers.” She stiffens once more, and he mentally kicks himself. The lust is ruining his tact. “I’m sorry, I’ve done it again. I’m making a mess of this.”

She laughs a little, and turns her head back, though she won’t meet his eyes. “No, I… I suppose I have.”

It is only through sheer force of will that he keeps himself from jerking back with surprise. She’s obviously uncomfortable telling him about it, and he doesn’t want to ruin this. Instead, he lets a smile slip onto his face and kisses her, teasing her mouth open with his tongue. “Mary, always full of surprises.” She giggles, and he knows it was the right thing to say.

 “Now, tell me what you do to yourself.”

“What I do to myself is my own business, Mister Crawley,” she says archly, and then grins at him. “But it usually involves removing my clothes first.”

Matthew has never truly appreciated the amount of work women put into their appearance, until now. He’s lucky he’s used to undressing himself; if he usually used a valet he’d be completely lost.

He doesn’t allow himself to look at Mary until he’s fully naked, and it’s a good thing, because as soon as he sees her he loses all coordination in his limbs. She’s lovely, all porcelain skin and small curves. Her breasts aren’t that big, but they’re perfect. She’s perfect. The thought seizes him that she’s had other lovers, and they obviously didn’t mean much to her, so this could mean nothing as well. He pushes it aside. That’s just not an option. He’ll have to make sure it’s so amazing that she can never think of being with anyone else.

“You’re lovely,” he breathes, and he doesn’t mean to say that, but her blush makes it worth the embarrassment.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she jokes, but it’s reverent.

They’re standing on opposite sides of the bed, and suddenly he doesn’t know how to proceed. “Tell me how to touch you,” he begs. She extends her hand, and he takes it, allowing himself to be pulled gently back into bed.

“Here,” she says, placing a finger on a tiny nub between her folds. Matthew swallows and presses down on it, and she squeaks. “Not – not like that,” she manages, and Matthew pulls his hand away sharply, chagrined. “No, it’s alright. Just – like this.” She guides his hand back and moves it in small circles, just a feather-light touch.

Her hips are twitching against his hand, and he swallows. “Is this all you do?” he asks through a dry throat.

She bites her lip and blushes, but shakes her head, spreading her legs wider. “Sometimes, but… it’s better if I pretend…” Her right hand sneaks down, past his, and his lips part on a silent gasp when he realizes where it’s headed. His cock twitches against his stomach, and he’d almost forgotten it, so caught up in the exhilaration of exploring her body. He watches, rapt, as she trails her finger around her hole, watches the way it contracts in anticipation.

“Can I?” he croaks, and she begins to move her hand away. “No, I – keep going.” He doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but he can smell her, and for some reason he longs to taste. He shifts down on the bed and lowers his head, eyes locked on hers as he touches the tip of tongue to that tiny, amazing nub. She jerks.

“Matthew, that’s unsanitary!”

“I don’t care,” and he really, really doesn’t. It’s awkward; his head keeps getting in the way of her arm as she slowly pumps her finger in and out, and oh, he wishes he could see that. Another time. For now, he flicks his tongue across her nub, reveling in every twitch and quiet whimper he wrings out of her. Her cries begin to get louder, and she claps a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.

“It’s okay. No one will hear us.”

“No talking,” she gasps. “Don’t you dare stop.”

Soon enough, she’s shuddering against him, mouth gone slack in pleasure, and he works her through it until she twitches away from him. She’s panting, her eyes closed, and something warm sparks in him. _I did that._

Her eyes snap open. “Matthew, I need you inside me.”

Yes, God, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, but he pauses. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Mary groans. “For God’s sake, Matthew, put it inside me or I’ll do it for you.”

Well, alright, then. He takes a deep breath and guides himself into her warmth. He has to take a moment. She’s so tight, and if he moves he might come. Slowly, he pulls out and pushes back in. He’s aware that he’s making noises, chanting Mary’s name, but he can’t hear what else he’s saying over the rush of noise in his head. His hips stutter and he pushes into her harder than he means to, and he stops, afraid he’s hurt her, but her whine of ” _please_ ” urges him on.

He’s trying so hard to make this good for her, but he’s too far gone to set any kind of rhythm, the way she did with her fingers. He reaches out, thumbs that little nub, and she cries out. “It’s too sensitive. I’ll finish like this, I think, if you just – faster – “ and of course he can do nothing but comply, snapping his hips forward and watching as her mouth moves in words she hasn’t the breath to voice. He thinks he sees “you’re so big,” and he’s not, really, he’s average, but he supposes that compared to a few fingers he must feel enormous.

He’s so focused on pleasing her that his orgasm takes him almost by surprise, but suddenly she clenches around him, shaking. It’s too much, and he barely has time to pull out before his back is arching and he comes with a strangled shout. He collapses against her, panting. She shoves at him ineffectually, and he realizes how heavy he must be. He rolls to the side with an apologetic grin. Mary grins back, and it hits him like a ton of bricks. He can’t leave her.

“Now that I’ve made you a woman in sin, will you marry me?” he asks tentatively, tracing mindless patterns on her shoulder. Mary laughs.

“Matthew, I was in sin long before I met you.”

He tamps down the flare of jealousy at her statement. It doesn’t matter; she’s his now. “Will you marry me anyway?”

She pulls him back to her with a wicked smirk. “Let’s continue living in sin for a while longer.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you! I might add another chapter but it works just fine as a oneshot.


End file.
